영문 맥베스 Macbeth영화 대사
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Macbeth Script
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Pour in sows blood
that hath eaten her nine farrow;
grease thats sweaten from the muderers gibbet
throw into the flame;
finger of birth-strangled babe,
ditch-deliverd by a drab;
Make the gruel thick and slab,
like a hell-broth boil and bubble,
for a charm of powerful trouble.
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightening or in rain?
When the hurlyburlys done.
When the battles lost and won.
That will be ere the set of sun.
Where to meet with
Macbeth?
By the pricking of my thumbs,
something wicked this way comes.
So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
A drum, a drum!
Macbeth doth come.
All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee,
thane of Glamis!
What are these that look not like
the inhabitants o the earth, and yet are ont?
Speak, if you can: what are you?
Hail!
/What ist you do?
Hail!
Hail!
Hail to thee, thane of Cawdor.
All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!
If you can look into the seeds time
and say which grain will grow and which will not,
speak then to me,
who neither beg nor fear
your favours nor your hate.
Hail!
Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
Not so happy, yet much happier.
Thou shalt get kings,
though thou be none.
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
Go herefrom! Leave!
Stay, you imperfect speakers,
tell me more.
I am thane of Glamis, but how of Cawdor?
the thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman;
and to be king stands not within the prospect of relief,
no more than to be Cawdor.
My lord, Macbeth!
Kind gentlemen.
The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
the news of thy success
As thick as hail came post with post
and every one did bear
thy praises in his kingdoms great defence,
We give thee from our royal master thanks.
He bade us, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor.
What, can the devil speak true?
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
for it is thine.
The thane of Cawdor lives. Why do you
dress me in borrowd robes?
Who was the thane lives yet;
but under heavy judgment bears that life
which he deserves to lose.
Treasons capital, confessd and proved
have overthrown him.
Glamis, and thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind.
This supernatural soliciting cannot be ill, cannot be good
If ill, why hath it given me earnest of success,
commencing in a truth?
I am thane of Cawdor.
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
and make my seated heart knock at my ribs
against the use of nature?
Worthy Macbeth,
we stay upon your leisure.
Give me your favour: my dull brain was
wrought with things forgotten.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear,
he hopes bove wisdom, grace and fear
Let us toward the king.
Hail!
Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it,
came missives from the king,
who all-hailed me Thane of Cawdor,
by which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me,
and referred me to the coming on of time,
with Hail, king that shalt be!
Stars, hide your fires, let not light see
my black and deep desires:
Lord Banqou!
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
when those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me
promised no less to them?
That trusted home might yet enkindle you
unto the crown, besides the thane of Cawdor.
But tis strange: and oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
the instruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles,
to betrays in deepest consequence.
Your children shall be kings.
You shall be king.
If chance will have me king, why,
chance may crown me, without my stir.
Look, how our partners rapt.
Hail, king that shalt be!
This have I thought good to deliver thee,
my dearest partner of greatness,
that thou mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing,
by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee.
Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
what thou art promised.
Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts,
unsex me here,
and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
of direst cruelty!
Make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature,
Shake my fell purpose, nor
keep peace between the effect and it!
Come to my womans breasts,
and take my milk for gall,
you murdering ministers, wherever in your
sightless substances you wait on natures mischief!
Come, thick night,
and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
that my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
to cry Hold, hold!
_->
Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
this ignorant present,
and I feel now the future in the instant.
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here to-night.
And when goes hence?
To-morrow, as he purposes.
He thats coming must be provided for.
We will speak further.
Put this nights business into my dispatch.
Your face, my thane, is as a book where
men may read strange matters.
To beguile the time, look like the time;
Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
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